Guilty Pleasure
by Anshin
Summary: Rufus lies awake, the soft purr of Kadaj's voice haunting him, possessing him...and slowly, he begins to realise that he wants the shinentai more than he will ever admit. Rufus/Kadaj, yaoi, one-shot, maybe a little AU. Rated M for a reason.


_**Disclaimer:** Don't own, Squeenix does._

_**A/N: **This was largely inspired by an RP I did where Kadaj more or less did the same thing to Rufus that he did to the kids with Geostigma...so that's where the whole possession aspect is coming from. This takes place before the movie, obviously._

--

Rufus writhes on the bed, the screaming at the back of his mind growing louder, more insistent—he can't ignore it, can't get rid of it. He feels it sliding over him, through him, slick and icy in his veins, and the pain of the Geostigma fades to dull warm numbness.

_No…not now. Not again._

He is thankful for the reprieve from the pain, but he knows what it means.

'_Shachou…'_

The voice comes from nowhere and everywhere at once. It surrounds him like a fog, but he knows that it is only in his mind. The _shinentai_ is not here. He hasn't been for days, but Rufus can't shake the feeling of his presence. He remembers the way the _shinentai_ speaks of the Nightmare, of the way he can feel him under his skin, inside of him, a part of him, and Rufus thinks that this must not be much different.

He feels it not as a command, but as a compulsion, and in a way, he can't control it—in a way, he doesn't want to try. The voice is there, but the words are inconsequential. He feels it as a whisper, gentle and persuasive. He believes what the _shinentai_ says because he knows that the _shinentai_ isn't lying.

He knows he shouldn't trust him. But when the pain is gone…he wants nothing more.

He feels phantom fingers running over his body, the touch feather-light, but the sensation intense against his hypersensitive skin.

The sheets shift and he begins to move, though not under his own power. His hand, stained black by the stigma, slides down over his abdomen, over the sprawl of the stigma spreading over his hip and down his leg, and his fingers trail back up and around him. But as the voice purrs to him, he feels the soft, slender fingers of the _shinentai_ instead, and he sighs at the touch.

They grip him, and warmth spreads through him. Slowly, he begins to stroke, his hand moving as though the _shinentai_'s hand were guiding it. The pain in his leg and hip vanishes altogether, the pain in his arm along with it. His side still aches, but the pleasurable relief is spreading fast, faster than the Geostigma can keep up.

His breath hitches and his fever spikes. Delirium settles in. He can almost taste the _shinentai_ on his lips again, the same way he swallowed the forceful kiss that left him with the lingering voice and this lack of control, and the taste is harsh but mild, bitter and earthy but sweet and almost metallic—it tastes of the stigma itself, like the taste of the wet ground and vibrant life after a hard rain mixed with blood.

He savours the taste, craves it.

He longs for the _shinentai_.

"Ka—Kadaj…" he whispers, a sense of urgency and panic in his voice, fear of being found out overwhelming, longing desperation maddening.

'_Shachou,'_ the voice replies, and he feels it come from within him, bubbling towards the surface and swelling until he is certain that he is going to burst with need. He feels dizzy and distant, as if the world is falling away from him, and all sensation becomes all he knows, until he can—he _can_ taste the _shinentai_, and can almost—can almost see him, perfect pale skin, so white that it is almost translucent, lips soft and so colourless that they are tinged purple-blue at the edges, silver hair falling in silken sheets over his round young face, all but hiding those mako eyes—intensely aqua, almost green, pupils thin, slitted, catlike—he can feel the stigma and the voice rushing through his veins until he knows that his own eyes must look much the same.

His head tips back, his eyes flicker closed, and his body arches up under the sheets he can barely feel.

"_Kadaj—_" he moans, louder, "_Kadaj—!_"

The _shinentai_'s name tastes sweet on his tongue, sweeter than the earth and blood of the Geostigma, and he says it again and again, until it is all he can taste. His body is falling, falling closer to the edge, he feels himself reeling, the world pulling away from him faster and faster until his head is spinning, and finally—finally—

He breaks, topples over the edge with a short cry, cut off by his own gasp for air, the need so strong that he feels as if he has been held underwater and deprived.

His hand falls away, his body falls limp, and the bed welcomes him back into its cool, soft folds. The world returns to him, reality dispelling the fog that has formed around his mind, and the voice fades with the mist.

It's over, and in a way, he's thankful for the return of the aching that grips at his muscles, but he knows that he'll need the _shinentai _again all too soon to soothe the pain of the stigma. In the meantime, he lies on the bed, immobile, and he lets the Geostigma take over in another way, forcing him to brace against its chokehold on his body.

He can only pray that the _shinentai_ will return soon.


End file.
